Ryan Adams - Hammersmith Apollo, London 26/02/15

Over his 20 year career there have been so many sides to this intriguing songwriter; tonight we had the genuine privilege of seeing them all laid out.

Ryan Adams is a curious mix of things: in part he's an elusive man, a heart-broken songwriter who's delivered some of the most poetic and affecting lyrics in modern indie music, on the other side he's an awkward, and occasionally fiery nerd, spending his time tweeting about cats, space and vintage pinball machines. Over his 20 year career there have been so many sides to this intriguing songwriter; tonight we had the genuine privilege of seeing them all laid out.

Late last year, in the wake of the prolific North Carolina native's 14th solo album, I caught Adams twice in London as he showcased the latest output from his self-titled LP. They were great shows, but at times his new '80s synth rock sound jolted slightly uncomfortable with his more established alt-americana styling. Tonight felt different. His new tracks felt as though they had found a more settled place within his set, clearly illustrating an artistic evolution rather than a disjointed change of direction.

The roaring electric guitar riff of 'Give Me Something Good', which has quickly established itself as a fan favourite, kicked the night off as a dishevelled, but well spirited Adams appeared on stage affront a backdrop of ironically giant amps, fake tigers, pinball machines and fairly lights. On 'Let It Ride' he channelled early Tom Petty's rootsy instrumentals, whilst the stunning 'Dear Chicago' - one of the more heartfelt moments from the oft-maligned Demolition LP - exhibited Adams' vulnerable vocal strengths.

Despite the slightly rowdy tendencies of the crowd, an unfortunate bi-product of Friday night shows, Adams' wit easily held the show together. When a heckler shouted at the songwriter he turned his incomprehensible remarks into a humorous impromptu track called 'I Ate Something Off The Street'. Generally though, spirits were high and there was a communal feel to the show, with the crowd in strong voice on 2001's 'Winding Wheel' and a rare appearance of Adams' ode of love to the "Big Apple" on 'New York, New York'.

Showing his appreciation of the sizeable talents of his support act Natalie Prass, he delivered an impressive cover of her stand-out track 'Your Fool', before the songwriter added her smoky vocals to a spell-binding rendition of Heartbreaker's 'Oh My Sweet Carolina'. The night slowly grew through the acoustic balladry of 'La Cienega Just Smiled' and 'When The Stars Go Blue' before erupting to a thundering crescendo on the macabre 'I See Monsters', which closed with a cacophony of sounds and strobing lights.

Adams took to his red, white and blue acoustic one last time and, joined by Prass, drew the night to an emphatic close with his anguish-laden lament to infidelity, 'Come Pick Me Up'. Here he was at his simplistic best, delivering evocative lyrics over a bed of catchy drum fills and full-bodied guitar work; placing the final piece in what was one of his most accomplished live performances to date.